


Never Loved One Like You

by mustachio



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Fluff, Hints of sex at the end, M/M, Marriage Proposal, POCecil, Who Loves Cecil Very Much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 20:12:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1482412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustachio/pseuds/mustachio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos has never believed in the idea of soul mates, but sometimes Cecil makes him want to rethink that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Loved One Like You

Carlos started waking up before his alarm during his undergrad days.

He isn’t sure why he started doing it. He actually had very few morning classes that required him to wake up early and he’s never been a light sleeper, but it’s something he’s done ever since then. Sometimes he thinks he shouldn’t even bother to set an alarm. Most times he thinks the day he stops setting an alarm is going to be the day his body decides not to wake him up on time so he continues to set an alarm even though he never ends up needing it.

Carlos wakes up before his alarm the day after his grant has been renewed for another five years.

It’s more unpleasant than usual because he’d been so excited about the renewal last night that he couldn’t fall asleep, talking excitedly to Cecil about all of his plans well into the late hours of night when night wasn’t actually night anymore, even by Night Vale time. The sun is already up, Carlos realizes, and burning his eyes until he’s certain he’ll need a new prescription. He lifts his arm over his eyes to block it out, turning on his other side to escape the sun’s rays, and is met with the much more pleasant sight of Cecil’s still sleeping face.

When Cecil sleeps he looks so normal it almost hurts.

Normal, of course, is a term with a skewed definition nowadays because when it comes to Cecil normal includes tentacles and an eye in the middle of his forehead and eyes on other parts of his body and tattoos that move like a movie stamped on skin. Cecil’s third eye twitches lightly in the same way his main two eyes move under closed eyelids. Carlos wonders what he’s dreaming about, if he’s dreaming about microphones and gluten free pizza and scientists or if he’s dreaming about mountains and snow and dogs in dog parks. He looks too peaceful for the later, but not enough for the former. Carlos settles for thinking Cecil is dreaming of lab coats and Cinnamon Toast Crunch and other things that straddle the border between dangerous and wonderful.

Cecil almost never stops speaking.

It makes sense that he doesn’t stop speaking. He speaks for a living, he loves words in a way Carlos has never seen anyone else love anything else, and has a voice that’s as soothing as anything could possibly be. Cecil is the sort of person that always has something to say, even when no one is probably listening. And even when he’s asleep, Cecil keeps on talking. It’s not in real words, not as far as Carlos can tell. It might be in modified Sumerian or Double Spanish neither of which Carlos is as fluent in as he’d like after living in Night Vale for nearly two years, but he thinks it’s mostly just English too slurred with sleep to be understandable. 

Cecil has freckles that always seem to move when he’s asleep.

They’re smattered all over his face, barely noticeable on dark skin. Carlos traces constellations both real and unreal in them, touch feather light and barely perceptible. Cecil stirs at the contact, sighing softly, but not waking up. Carlos wonders if Cecil has always had his freckles, if their as much a part of him as his heart and lungs and voice, or if he just woke up with them one day after a camping trip with the scouts. He brushes his thumb over one just on the tip of Cecil’s nose, lips following quickly after. Cecil stirs again and this time his eyes begin to flutter open.

“Carlos...” Cecil takes a deep breath, stretching to wake himself up a little more. “It’s early. You should go back to sleep.”

“Can’t.” Carlos mumbles. “I’m too awake now.”

Cecil presses closer into Carlos and Carlos presses his lips against Cecil’s. Cecil wraps an arm around his waist and sighs, sleepy and content.

“So you had to wake me up?” 

“I’m afraid so.”

Cecil brings a gentle hand around Carlos’s neck, uses his thumb to tilt Carlos’s head up, allowing him to more easily press his lips to Carlos’s throat. Carlos groans and rests one of his hands over Cecil’s.

“That’s not very nice.” Cecil purrs against Carlos’s skin.

“Mhmm, sorry about that.” Carlos breathes as Cecil presses open mouthed kisses along the length of his throat. “I’ll have to make it up to you.”

“I think I like the sound of that.” Cecil presses another kiss to Carlos’s throat. “And I know just how you can do that.”

“Oh?” Carlos’s breath hitches when one of Cecil’s hands makes its way to the waistband of his boxers. Cecil bites down lightly on his neck, sucks in a way Carlos knows is sure to leave a mark. “What do you have in mind?”

Cecil slips a few fingers under the waistband, running them through the dark curls there, low enough to tease, but not for much else. Carlos arches up in an attempt to bring Cecil’s fingers lower. It doesn’t work and Cecil pulls away from Carlos entirely to rest back against his pillow.

“Coffee would be nice since you so kindly woke me up. Breakfast, too.”

With a groan, Carlos rolls out of bed. He drops his current boxers while Cecil watches lazily, licking his lips at the view before Carlos covers it up with a fresh pair.

“Do you want anything in particular? I went to the grocery store yesterday so we have most anything you could want. Except decent toast, obviously.”

“Surprise me.”

An omelet and bacon are Carlos’s surprise of choice. He brings them and the coffee up on a tray along with a plate and mug for himself. When he gets back to the room, Cecil is hugging Carlos’s pillow with his face pressed deeply into it. Carlos sets the tray down on the nightstand and clears his throat.

“Did you know,” Cecil begins, voice muffled until he lifts his head from the pillow and sits up to eat properly. “That I almost gave up on you?”

Carlos quirks an eyebrow and hands one of the mugs to Cecil.

“I didn’t think I took that long to make breakfast.”

“No,” Cecil shakes his head, sipping at the coffee. “I don’t mean just now. I mean before. Before the night at the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex.”

They’ve had many nights there since the start of their relationship, but Carlos knows what Cecil means without any further elaboration. He settles back in on his side of the bed with his own coffee held carefully in his hands so as not to spill. He doesn’t say anything. He just waits for Cecil to continue.

“It had been a year since you came to Night Vale and I knew you knew how I felt. I was ready to give up, to try to move on with my life.”

“And the anniversary trophy? That whole ceremony you planned to honor my yearlong survival in this city?” Carlos sounds vaguely disbelieving, but not accusatory.

“I meant for those to be entirely platonic. I was going to ask you if you would be willing to be my friend if you didn’t return my feelings of affection, but then you did, and there was no need for that.” Cecil rests his head on Carlos’s shoulder and sighs. “I was thinking of that while you were in the kitchen. I was thinking about how I’ve wanted this for so long and now I have it and I’m so happy, Carlos. Sometimes it seems too good to be true. Sometimes I’ll see something like your pillow or your toothbrush and I have to convince myself that all of this is real and not just a dangerously vivid dream.”

“I promise you don’t have to worry about that. I’m really real. I’m really here. All of this really does exist. Trust me, I should know. I’m a scientist. I study existence for a living.”

Cecil’s only response comes in the form of a contented sigh and a loud sip of his coffee.

“You know, I’ve been doing some thinking lately, too.”

“Of course you’ve been thinking, Carlos.” Cecil says around a bite of omelet. “That’s part of being a scientist. You said so yourself.”

Carlos chuckles lightly, nudging Cecil with his shoulder, but shakes his head.

“I’ve been thinking about marriage.” 

Carlos watches Cecil carefully, noting the way his chewing slows and his breathing quickens with something that might be anticipation.

“Oh? Are you thinking of asking for someone’s hand in marriage?”

Cecil’s voice is careful and measured, almost nonchalant except for the nervousness that after a year spent together Cecil can no longer hide from him. He takes another bite of his breakfast. 

“Yeah, I was thinking of asking Teddy Williams.” Carlos jokes and Cecil nearly jokes on his food. Carlos is pretty sure it’s because he’s trying not to laugh. Carlos adjusts his position so that he’s lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, and pressed against his boyfriend. He reaches for a piece of bacon, but his hand is slapped away before he can get it. “What do you think?”

“I think you have your own food, Mr. Scientist.” Cecil takes the extra plate and hands it to Carlos. Carlos sits up properly again to rest the plate on his legs. “And I think Joel Eisenberg would be a much better match for you. The two of you could bond over dinosaurs together.”

“You think?” Carlos considers this for a moment, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth. “You know, I don’t actually think I’ve spoken to him more than twice.”

“A shame, I do think you would be good friends.” Cecil smiles and shakes his head, but Carlos stops smiling and rubs a hand over his face. “Carlos? Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah. I actually have been thinking about it, you know. About marriage, I mean. I’ve been thinking about it and our home.” Carlos sets the plate to the side of the bed, crossing his legs and shifting to face Cecil more fully again. He thinks back to the speech he gave when he asked Cecil to make a home with him. “I’ve been thinking about how we took a space—how we took a patch of nothing and filled it with a group of objects to create a something. A really great something, I think. And I’ve been thinking about how we’ve shared our personal experiences of time to make our something into a home and how, scientifically speaking, we work really well together. We’ve made a lot of great things together and I was thinking that maybe—maybe it would be a good idea if we kept making a home together. If maybe you would want to keep making a home together until we cease to exist.”

Carlos pauses and takes a breath. Cecil keeps quiet, but sets his plate off to the side to shift into a position mirroring Carlos’s and takes Carlos’s hands into his, rubbing soft circles into his skin.

“I was thinking—I was wondering… Would you—will you marry me?”

He swallows thickly, almost entirely certain of how Cecil will answer the question, but still feeling all too nervous. The split second of silence before Cecil answers doesn’t help, although the wide smile on Cecil’s face does. Cecil takes his hands from Carlos’s to cup Carlos’s face in them, bringing him in for a kiss deep and full of love.

“Yes!” Cecil laughs out when he pulls away. “Of course I will marry you my sweet, dear Carlos.”

Carlos grins and manages to squeak out a quick “neat!” before Cecil tackles him back into the pillows and divests him of his boxers.


End file.
